


If you stare at Eternity, at some point, it will stare back at you

by slyvir



Series: A Staring At Eternity AU [1]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Comments may contain Spoilers, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shadowhunter!Magnus, Slow Burn, Swap!AU, This is gonna be a long jurney, Warlock!Alec, Warlock!Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyvir/pseuds/slyvir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all the centuries Alec has been a warlock, nothing really managed to make him change his likings or character; not his sister (only half sister actually not that it'd really matter anyway) and fellow warlock Izzy; not the ages long peculiar friendship with Will Herondale, Vampire extraordinaire; not the exquisite torture that was Camille Belcourt; not the crazy suicidal vampire who became a brother, Jace Herondale (and really is that family composed solely of vampires?); nevermind the annoyances that have been the Clave and the children of the Nephilim always seems to be; Who is Magnus Bane? What does He have that can make Alecs blood run faster than it ever did? But most of all, how can a shadowhunter being so glittering, colourful, wearing full makeup and styled hair yet still manage to fight demons and walk away as if he had done nothing more than stand there and look beautiful? He is a mystery, and still after all this time Alec just can't figure out if he loathes or loves mysteries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tell me again, why am I allowing this?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowLikesPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowLikesPie/gifts), [TheLittleBlackCap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleBlackCap/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Staring At Eternity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560245) by [ShadowLikesPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowLikesPie/pseuds/ShadowLikesPie). 



> So this is an AU inspired and spun from ShadowLikesPie's Staring At Eternity (I've mentioned this in so many places now so please please do not change the title XD) so if the stories sound awfully familiar please be sure to check out the comments on that and my other story You give the best advice... (Be nice if you took it more than once every 300 years) to check over there has been the author's permission to fool around with their story, though please know I am slow burner I am most likely going to write all this story directly in the AO3's editor if you see weird repetition please let me know I'll try to fix them but I am still learning on how to work with the platform's editor and I know myself if I am to write this in word I'll end up basically never updating it as other documents do require my utmost urgent attention (read it as word has become my own personal Mortal Sword waiting to compel me to do what I have to do).
> 
> Also with this being an AU of that story, it means some things are still going to be the same other are going to be different to suit my whims and plot development.

Alec Lightwood, the High Warlock of Brooklyn couldn't find in himself the strength to suppress a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. It has happened once again, one more time he bowed down to his _half_ -sister Isabelle's pleading eyes and his _adopted_ brother Jace's pout, and granted the permission to use his huge loft for what is promised to be the biggest party of the year, not that it's really a surprise, he knew already it would have ended this way, oh not because he could read the future, more like because he could never forget the past.

Alec had always done everything in his power and more to try to please his family and loved ones, on the bright side he could count himself lucky that at the end of the day, after so many centuries had passed, the number of people who could make him cave in and do their will instead his own ~ _more like_ _manipulate you Alec, call it for what it is, have the spine to be honest at least with yourself, at least in here, where no one else will ever want to dwell_ ~ that such number could be counted with a single hand, it hadn't always been so few, there had been a time when...

"No!"  the whisper is as harsh and final as the shaking of his head, "there's no need to go there Alec, just straighten up and bear with it, you've endured the unbearable this far, no reason to stop now" his harsh words whispered softly, almost apologetic to his own reflection, the sky slowly darkening outside and the lights of New York City acquiring their magical shine, a new night beginning.

"Talking with yourself again Big Brother? Lemme guess, still unsure on what to wear for the big party tonight?" The laughter and slightly teasing notes in Izzy's voice are clear as the dying daylight shimmering on the water, the scowl on Alec's face only slightly  turning into a smile "Should I take your words as the final surrender meaning I won't have to endure you driving me nuts to wear yet another set of clothes you bought for me that I will not wear Iz?"

"Never! It's beyond my understanding how after all this time you still do not care at all what you look like, really Alec what's the fun of being forever young if you insist on carry and dressing yourself like an ancient old man? I do wonder, should I start searching for wrinkles on your face?" Isabelle walks into the room getting closer to where Alec is standing in front of the window looking outside with a far away look, the kind of looks Isabelle knows are a sign of worries, the kind of looks she wishes her magic would be able to erase with a snap of her fingers, wishing she knew of some way she could smooth them out of her brother's face. It is only halfway teasing that she caresses his face and starts pointing slightly around his eyes and forehead smoothing nonexistent wrinkles, "There there Big Brother, all better now" a smile to return his and a kiss on his cheek to distract him from her sneaking arms wrapping around his arm "So, Tonight...?"

Alec press a soft kiss on her forehead shaking his head and with the sweetest voice he can muster answers softly "Tonight you and Jace will drown yourself in music, dancing and pressing yourselves on the sweaty bodies around you, and leave me in peace as I'll be my usual charming self and the gracious host who allowed for his home to be invaded so that his annoying siblings wouldn't have to look like fools when trying to return back home after getting wasted, how  does that sound?"

Not caring to sound like a petulant child Izzy shows no shame in her whining "Awww come on Alec you are the High Warlock of Brooklyn, you know you need to be seen to keep the business running, and you cannot let people see you as sleazy and sloppy as you are at home" after all she just wanted his brother to start taking care of himself, even of it was for small frivolous things like, for once, getting out of those old rundown hoodies and sweaters that are more holes than fabric… In her fashionable and fashion oriented mind there is no space or actually understanding of the small comfort such ugly things could ever bring to her technically half-brother, because seriously something that's so disgustingly falling apart could not belong anywhere else but in the trash, and she really cannot phantom what passes into his head to ever _wanting_ to dress like that, but she has learned that at least or now trying to change that is a completely lost cause.

"Oh but Izzy, I **_am_** in **my** home, and ya know that whole teeny-weeny little thing sounding along the lines of _my castle my rules_?" The sarcasm dripping like honey gets interrupted by a new set of steps that should under normal circumstances be soundless but, of course they are not in this instance as they belong to the dramatic and slightly self centered being known as Jace Herondale, vampire extraordinaire that finally found a new reason for living in this new century by attending as many parties, and visiting as many beds as he could fit in between his routine checking out of himself.

"Good thing this is not a castle but a loft Alec, it would be a pity to get killed by the boredom your rules would ensure. I know you know I am the living definition of drop-dead gorgeous but making it permanent would be such a pity, how could I bear deprive the world of this view" Jace's hand backing up the innuendo of his words with a slow deliberate motion intended for the sole purpose of highlighting his leather clad body resting against the frame of the window letting the lights from outside playing on his artfully exposed skin.

"Why am I keeping you around again?" With an exasperated groan Alec swishes both his hands in the dramatic theatricals he learned to do for his most annoying and stupid clients, those who believe magic could not happen unless it's matched with flourish movements that are nothing more than a waste of time and energy as far as Alec's pragmatic nature is concerned. He changes his attire from the comfortable black cotton hoodie, soft sweatpants and barefoot look to what looks more like a battle ready outfit of completely black sneakers and jeans, only the silk shirt with the first button undone under the open duster with the mandatory hood, which is mercifully for the time being still resting on his shoulder, give Alec's appearance more the look of the powerful warlock that he really is rather than the unassuming ~ _unlovable~_ insecure teenager he appears to be when he is free to seem relaxed, or at least in what he wants people to assume is the relaxed version of himself.  Not that anyone but himself, Will and unfortunately Camille had ever had the chance to see him in bliss, able to finally let go and relax.

Izzy nods her approval of the outfit before letting her unglamoured forked tongue flicker in front of Alec's face, "One of those days you will let me add that missing touch of makeup to finally bring out those lovely eyes of yours, that blue just begs to be exposed like shining sapphires, plus it is already way past the mark of ‘about time’ you'd let the world see that you can be hot... It's starting to impact my own reputation..."

Alexander's body goes completely rigid, and he takes a step back, his lips pressed in a thin line as he bites his tongue trying to avoid unleashing all the curses raging through his mind.

 His eyes flashing instantly first to a pale ghostly blue before changing into pitch black in a matter of milliseconds, a physical reminder of his peculiar warlock's mark and its ever changing nature depending on his emotions, the painful reminder that he can't afford to have someone getting close to him, it would be too dangerous, now more than in the past, since this time around he would not just put himself and his closest family at risk, but also for all the warlocks he is responsible for…

It is the reminder that without an intricate series of glamours Alexander is nothing more than a completely open and readable book, vulnerable, a liability, all his emotions displayed clearly into his eyes from the brief sensation of fear to the burning feeling of being pissed off at one of the few people in his life who _should_ know better than push this specific button with him, especially seeing what's going to happen tonight...

The party planned especially for the Children of the Nephilim, to be the front and reason to disabuse the Clave that the quietness of the Downworlders is not synonym of illegal activities being carried on... And if that is not the complete and honest to God truth, then no one needs to be the wiser. After all an omission is not a lie, try to ask a Seelie.

"Izzy..." The warning in Alec's tone laced with pain doesn't escape any of the immortals in the house, even Church, who normally wouldn't interfere takes the time to send an aggravated glare toward Isabelle and quickly dash from his position on the sofa to rubbing against Alec's ankles demanding to be petted and offering a small escape from the painful reminder. Izzy bites her lower lips and looks down her following words being the only indirect apology she's able to offer to her brother "I meant that if you insist of never remove the glamour from your eyes you could at least enhance them, I thought you were the fiercest advocate of hiding in plain sight... The makeup would really help, and who knows if you allow yourself to look hot maybe you'll finally get laid and release all of this angst and UST you continuously carry around like a cape"

Hiding his face in Church's soft fur and nuzzling his nose against his tiny neck brings Alec back from the edge, his body relaxing, another layer of glamour working its way on top of those weaved webs already present, only after that a soft resigned sigh can leave his lips "You two will be the death of me..." 

Showing no indication of being even remotely affected by the previous moments Jace replies deadpanned in an almost solemn way "I thought that Will was supposed to be the death of you?"

The short lived snort that sound suspiciously like a chuckle dispels the remaining tension from the room as Alec kneels down to let Church go back to his precious grooming, "No Jace, Will is and I quote, albeit after insisting on the relevance of this being totally **his** **own self-proclaimed** description for himself, that he is _mon petite mort"_ _and like every time this comes up a blush spreads on Alec’s face and a giggle escape Isabelle’s lips, Jace looks confused once more, unable to pick up what’s so funny, but like any other time he receives no further explanation on the meaning of it, that leaves Izzy floored with laughter and Alec mumbling about being grateful for Jace’s own laziness and unwillingness to learn more languages than his own native one._

Standing up again and dusting off any trace of Church's fur before passing one hand through his hair Alec straighten up and makes a get going motion toward the both of them "Anyway, I thought you both were in here to bug me into getting ready for the party and make sure I was in appropriate clothes, and now I am, So move along kids and go play with our guests, I'd say don't do anything I can't fix but knowing you two that will seem to you either like a waste of breath or like an invitation to raise as much mayhem as you can possibly do… And I beg you please don’t…”

Unsurprisingly Jace is the first one out of the door and into the party, ready to mingle drink and enjoy whatever new excitement the night is going to bring his way.

Izzy’s heels click softly on the floor, her lighter tone resounding as a laugh in her parting words “You know us so well big brother, just remember to join us after all everyone thinks that this _is **your**_ party … Ah the things I don’t do for you Alec, you have no idea how hard it is to be your silent party planner and maintain the reputations of those parties being the best ones ever as they rightfully should always be!” With each step toward the door more of the party glow shines on her flattering dress, precisely designed and fitted to show enough skin to be both deliciously teasing and sensually inviting. And just as Jace did, it takes only few seconds for Izzy to dive into the party ready to meet and greet the new arrivals.

Alec takes another deep breath, few more moment for collecting himself spent looking out the window, the sun already disappeared behind the horizon left the stars and the lights of the city shining like diamonds into the darkness of the night. One more breath then it’s time to put on his game face and go out there to face the music, be the High Warlock of Brooklyn and do what he has always done, take care of all the people he is responsible for.

Tonight he’s going to meet the new generation of Nephilim, he learned long ago to not hold too much hope for a race unable to treat others like people rather than inferiors being or disposable tools, but maybe just maybe the new generation will be different than the many ones before them he had the displeasure to meet.

Only time will tell what tonight will bring, luckily if there’s one thing a warlock has on their side is time.

Conjuring one drink on one hand and passing the other through his hair resisting the impulse of raising his hood to cover his face before even starting the night, Alec Lightwood, High Warlock of Brooklyn, steels himself and walks into the party ready to do what it needs to be done, what the people he is responsible for expect him to do, keep them all safe and secretly pray he will be good enough at least this time.

Shining eyes piercing through the crowd looking for the unsuspecting special guests who do not know they are the reason tonight is even happening, failure is not an option, the stakes of tonight’s game are too high, too many people are counting on or looking up to him for protection, and he intends to deliver, because after all he learned the main lesson on how to survive being a warlock long before he stopped aging:

**_There’s no great secret, you endure what is unbearable and you bear it. That is all._ **


	2. Something sparkling shines in the shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can a poor Nephilim do if the Clave is nothing more than a bunch of old paranoid fossilized fools? Simple, get new (non-black) clothes, doll up and get ready to party

The Clave, there're many words that would come to mind to most Shadowhunters to define such an important part of their society, however, it takes one especially brave ( _or particularly idiotic if you were to ask to a specific pair of parabatai_ ) to define them as 'that rotting, dusting fashion-challenged bunch of old coats with too much time on their hand and not enough brain to use even a small part of that time to get rid of the cobwebs multiplying onto the rags they carry around'.

If one were to wonder who such words belonged to, then that would be a clear indicator that they hadn't yet had the pleasure to spend even a minute anywhere close to the New York Institute, because if they did then the answer wouldn't be a mystery at all, nor would they be surprised in learning that Magnus Bane was the child of the Nephilim behind such words.

 "Magnus! Magnus where have you been all afternoon? Dot was going to brief us for tonight mission, and guess what? She was asking where you were..." the words were said with that quality of calm fury which begs to ask forgiveness and grovel, that's it if you were not the previously mentioned brave ( _bonehead)_ Magnus Bane, who as sole reply turned a bright smile toward the furious young woman raising both his hands proudly showing what looked like four bags full of shiny and glittery material... His voice soft with mirth, sounding so sweet and filled to the brim with innocent delight that it was almost impossible staying mad at him, no matter the mayhem he was surely going to cause in the near future.

"Catarina, my darling, you just **_have_** to know I was only getting what we absolutely need for tonight's mission, what else could have I been up to?" Not even the strongest will and hardened heart would have been able to resist the gleeful gleams in his eyes, and in all honesty, Catarina's healer nature was completely against her in this specific fight, with a resigned sighs and a shake of her head she lets her fury deflating slowly as her silver white hair fall in front of her eyes, efficiently hiding the building curiosity at her friend's newest acquisitions.

“But of course Magnus, after all what could you possibly have been up to…” Magnus has already turned his back on her as she walks toward the bed, two silent figures slipping into the room unnoticed until each of the two young men let their opinion known.

“I’d say he might have been hiding in some remote and distant corner trying out another instrument of torture, which reminds me did you practiced your music recently Mags, I think I saw flocks of crows leaving the Institute in what seemed a desperate attempt of escape?” Ragnor Fell was chuckling at the inside joke his jab raised, especially after hearing the indignant splutter his friend didn’t manage to hide.

It was to a still sputtering Magnus, an incredibly resigned Catarina and a still giggling Ragnor, that is the scene greeting Raphael Santiago as he walks into the room, his eye resting at first on his giggling parabatai, though it’s a shiny gleam at the corner of his peripheral vision that catches his attention and makes him explain in horror pointing at the bags slowly being unpacked, the disgust and mild panic ringing in each and every word “Madre de Dios, in the name of the Angels I do hope all the products you use in your hair didn’t make you brain melt and believe you could have me inside anything that looks like someone thrown glitter and sequin on it”

Magnus laugh rings into the room, three pairs of eyes set on him with mild to ranging concern, not completely sure the humor in it is really genuine and not a front “Awww come on Raphael, we are heading to a party tonight we need to dress to impress”

Catarina frowns her voice betraying her irritation, the concern for her friend and fellow shadowhunter fading in the background as she hisses “Magnus, it’s going to be a mission, not a social call… and how do you know we are going to a party you weren’t there for the mission’s briefing, care to explain yourself…?”

Magnus keeps looking like his is solely on his recent purchases thinking hard on what he should wear since tonight, after all he’s going to dress to impress, he is a man on a mission, and not one appointed by paranoid old coats who can’t appreciate some calm and just have to think that if there’s no evident signs of catastrophes in sight it’s a clear sign the Downworlders are up to no good.

Magnus pouts cutely trying to get out of having to share more than he’s sure he’s going t be forced to do, and when that doesn’t work he resign himself to start throwing the new clothes to their respective new owners “Considering I am the one who had got us the invitation for this party, it’d be hard for me not to know the when and where we are going tonight”

Catarina’s eye reflect her surprised in learning this new missing tad-bit of information before starting the condensed version of the briefing for Magnus “Basically we are to mingle with downworlders at the party hosted by the High Warlock of Brooklyn, asset if unseemly things are happening, get the feeling if illicit activities are taking place and report back to the Clave what we have discovered” despite being all business like she is admiring the perfectly white dress and red satin stash on the dress Magnus put in her hands, a seemingly retro dress of the 50s made in shining materials that looks like it came out from a distant future rather than whatever boutique in Fifth Avenue or wherever he did find such thing, in her inspection she almost missed the curious question Magnus whispered of “and what about the party’s host do we have any information on him?”

She taps a finger on her lips thinking “We were not told much about the High Warlock of Brooklyn, just the basic, tall, black hair blue eyes that are his demon mark, powerful, the kind of presence that just doesn’t pass unnoticed… mostly the usual warning of you can’t miss him, even if really at some point someone should have actually the presence of mind to take pictures to add into those files they want to keep, what is the sense of a database to catalogue warlock if then we cannot even have an idea of what they look like beside some half made description”

Catarina can sense her words are now starting to being ignored in favor of inspecting the outfit chosen for tonight’s _adventure_ , and looking from her own hands she can see, hear it’s more like it, both Ragnor and Raphael grudgingly admitting that what they called improbable rags could actually pass as decent on them and not so absurd as they looked from the bag.

Magnus claps his hands excitedly, “Well my friends I know you do not care to look as fantastic on your new outfit as I do, but this needs time and I’m in for a shower anyway see ya in few hours at the front door all dolled up for a night out, and please do try to not ruin my efforts, I don’t want to look bad.. You are coming as my friends after all, your looking awful reflects badly on me”

To Catarina the teasing is as clear as spring water, and yet like the perfect bait it still manage to raise the indignant reaction of “your reputation? I’m more worried about our respectability at being seeing into something _you_ picked” and “Idiota” from the double tRRouble, parabatai extraordinaire and exceptionally skilled pain in everyone side, she shakes her head fondly thinking that despite those three being the bane of her existence she wouldn’t have it any other way than it is, _let them have some fun_ she thinks, after all a teasing Magnus is better than the worrying mass of despair he had been recently after.. She forces herself to stop that line of thinking, they have an official mission ahead of them, and she needs to get ready, and if by any chance if during the mission she could find a solution for her friend’s broken heart, then no one on the Clave has to be the wiser, it’s not like they are looking into breaking the law…

At exactly 9 pm sharp Magnus walks out of the Institute’s front door to wait for his fellow shadowhunters in all his magnificent glory, the burgundy’s silk shirt carefully unbuttoned to expose the necklaces adorning his neck and give tantalizing sneak peek of his perfectly sculpted abs, black glittering leather pants wrapping around his leg showing off his assets, the glittery bronze eye shadow enchanting his exotic features, the splash of blush on his cheeks and the grape flavored chap stick tinting his lips enhance the bashfully youthful and endearing look he carries on like a second skin, his stance only expressing confidence, tonight is going to be good, and looking around his partners he can’t stop the genuine smile and nods, they are all going to make heads turn, it’ll be a blast.

It doesn’t take too long to reach the apartment where the party is held, and when they’re actually granted entrance it’s pretty evident the celebration is in its full swing, the lights are low, the music good and seemingly drinks are flowing like rivers if the state of some of the downworlders in some of the darkest corner are to go by…

Magnus takes another look around the dance floor and walks confidently toward its center, searching for his intended target, his companions forgotten for the time being, it takes only three step in that direction to be faced with a beautiful brunette smiling at him

“Welcome to the party of the year children of the Nephilim, I’m Isabelle Lightwood, though should you call me I’ll answer better to Izzy” she winks, her tone almost flirtatious as she quickly continues “I hope you’ll have a great time, please do make sure to not bring harm toward the other guest, frankly cleaning the blood from the floor is a bitch and I planned to have fun tonight” Her words are light and the mirth in them shines also from her eyes and her nonchalance posture as she offers her hand in a way that betrays an old fashioned upbringing, or maybe an unspoken challenge… And oh boys, Magnus loves a challenge, that’s how he ended up with the Camille’s issue after all, and yet apparently that’s not a lesson he’ll ever learn because he’s going to take Isabelle on her challenge with all the grace he’s capable of…

He bows slightly, enough to not look like he’s mocking her, yet not so low to grovel, and kisses the back of her offered hand firing a charming smile in her direction “A pleasure to meet you Isabelle, don’t worry we are not here to cause tragedy, we are off-duty and in here only to relax and have a good time” his voice is confident and he knows the lie could not be detected in neither his words or tone, but her eyes shine with wit and intelligence as she smiles and nods pleased “In that case I believe you are all missing something to get into the right mood for this party, what drink can I get for you and your friends?”

Magnus is the first to answer with a brave and sassy “Surprise me” and he really is surprised when with quick and elegant snap of her finger, and some purple energy a sweet smelling pink cocktail appears in his hand, a colorful paper umbrella stuck into the blood orange slice resting on the glass’ edge, halfway into the drink. Without breaking eye contact he raises it to his lips and take a sip, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as he realizes his tongue just darted out of its own volition to capture the last trace of the sinfully sweet cocktail, not really sure if he just imagined or if he really had let a small moan slip out his lips. “You do deliver Izzy, and wow it is fabulous… feel free to share the recipe I wouldn’t mind a refill” he knows his charm is still turned on, but his compliment is sincere.

He felt someone watching the whole exchange with greedy and focused eyes, and looking up it takes only a minute to see the tall handsome man looking intently at him, ink black hair, captivating smile and blue eyes… Magnus can’t believe Lady Luck has finally found in her heart to grant him a wish, his eyes taking in the lean attractive body teasingly showing through the black clothes, the unbuttoned shirt revealing patches of perfectly porcelain skin, the leather pants tight like a second skin displaying perfectly each and every moving muscle as the man descends the stairs with his sight completely focused on Magnus’ own body.

He licks his lips once more after another sip of the drink “As much as it has been a pleasure meeting you Isabelle I think I just saw the person who’s going to make this party the best one I’ve ever been to, I hope you won’t mind if I take my leave now”, he barely registers and acknowledge Izzy’s laugh and dismissing reply with a short nod before prowl toward the man, a small flirtatious smile playing on his lips.

They actually reach each other in the middle of the dance floor, Magnus smiles coyly raising his cocktail and finishing the remaining of the pink substance mere inches from the man’s face while looking into his eyes, neither care what happened next to glass, the only important thing is breathing and drinking the exciting thrill of being so close.

And if Magnus purposely licks his lips more than necessary while looking into the almost violet blue eyes which seem to silently ask him why such coy smile graces Magnus’s lips, and it’s with fluttering eyelashes that Magnus breaths on the other man’s lip “ _ **Black hair**_ and _**blue eyes**_ _are my_ _favorite_ combination…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here I am biting my lips because I'm torn between actually say something spoilerish or just sit back and see if someone will notice before chapter 3 what the hell is happening...  
> *giggles like a madman*
> 
> Anyway guys I am having a blast, this universe it's too funny to write, feel free to drop comments or simply enjoy the ride with me.
> 
> @ShadowLikesPie sowwy, even with the use and abuse of the timezone I wasn't able to upload it within last week's weekend... I hope you won't hold it against me too much, I can't wait for your reaction honeybun hope you enjoyed this

**Author's Note:**

> One note, I will do my best to update, the story is fun to write, and I have another that will probably come out soon enough on the same line of Warlock!Alec AU though that one I fear will have darker tones than this  
> just as a fair warning I am soon to go into a break from my job to be able to have the time to write the dissertation for my master writing in this universe and on the warlock!Alec AU is a fun way to relax and take a break to have my focus returning back on where it belongs with my final project, if all goes well by July at worse October things will be settled (with the degree in my pocket).  
> This story will be completed in time. It's the only promise I can make.


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